Golden Forty, The
by LittleTee
Summary: A small collection of forty one-shots based on the 1991 Challenge (HPFC). Ratings will range from K to T. Now featuring Padma Patil in "We Didn't Start The Fire." Summary: A random and somewhat fluffy Padma/Draco one-shot. EWE. AU.
1. (HA) The Letter

**The Letter**

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 **Summary:** In which Hannah Abbot receives her letter from Hogwarts and wished she hadn't.

 **Rating:** K

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"Hannah dear, something has come for you."

Hannah looked up from her canvas to her mother wondering who would send her a missive through the Owl Post. It wasn't her birthday or a holiday that ruled out her grandparents. Her friends rarely wrote anything. So, who had sent her a letter? She paused as realization slowly dawned. Her canvas and its incomplete landscape depicted thereon forgotten. It had to be _the_ letter.

"Coming mother," she set down her palette and brush on her stool. She made her way up the shade-dappled walk to her mother. On her way, she tried desperately to push aside the fear and anxiety that threatened to overwhelm her.

"Hannah whatever's the matter?" her mother asked as she met her daughter halfway up the back walk. She had not missed her daughter's look of trepidation and futility. "It's a letter… The letter. Not something bad."

Hannah muttered a quick, "Yes mother I know," as she accepted the envelope and regarded the scarlet wax seal. The one that bore the crest of her parent's alma mater: _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_.

Her letter had come.

She opened it with shaky fingers and skimmed the enclosed letter.

She had been accepted.

A fact that should have filled her with anticipation, wonder and unbridled happiness. Not with fear, doubt, and wariness. She knew that she should be smiling. Not frowning or worrying her lip. So, for the benefit of her mother she offered a small smile as she handed the letter over to her. Accepting the subsequent hug with gratitude.

She was scared. Truly scared.

 **o0o**

Later that night Hannah unfolded the letter once more. This time reading the entirety of it. The words of her cousin thundering over the words on her acceptance letter.

 _"Just because one gets a letter doesn't really mean they aren't a Squib. There once a Squib who got a letter - a wand and robes too - and even made it to the sorting ceremony . . . but of course, that was as far as she could go. Since she was not truly magical. Just a wannabe witch. Just. Like. You."_

Her cousin was mean and a right prat but her words still had their intended effect. It gave fuel to the already small seed of doubt in the back of Hannah's mind. That she was not magical. That she was not a witch.

She didn't feel like one. At least she thought she didn't. She honestly didn't know how a witch or even a wizard for that matter, felt or behaved. It was true that odd stuff did seem to happen to her most often than not, but was that really a good yard stick to measure whether one was gifted with magical abilities or not?

She just did not know.

So, she had been waiting for her eleventh birthday and her first Hogwarts letter for years with bated breath. Thinking that if she got her letter that had to prove if she was a witch or not.

That all had changed when her cousin sadistically smashed Hannah's hopes and dreams with her words. Hannah half wished she could just refuse the acceptance letter. It was always an option, but she couldn't do it. She couldn't ask her parents to not send the letter of acknowledgment and permission for her to attend Hogwarts. She just couldn't.

Hannah sighed and returned the letter back into its envelope and slid it under her pillow before settling down into the warmth of her bed. The threads of impossible hope slowly wrapping around her as she began to drift off into slumber. That she was indeed a witch and by the end of the sorting ceremony, she would be able to cheerfully proclaim it to her cousin and to everyone.

 _Fini_

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 **Disclaimer:** The Wizarding World of Harry Potter does not belong to LittleTee, (who shall henceforth be referred to as "The Author.") While the plot of this fanfiction, (henceforth to be referred to as the "Story,") is of The Author's creation, neither the characters nor the locations therein belong to The Author, as they belong to JK Rowling, with the exception of any characters or locations within this Story which have no representation in cannon-these original characters and locations are the property of The Author. This is a work of fiction produced for the single purpose of entertaining fans of Harry Potter, and no Copyright infringement is intended.

 **Author's Note:** This will be a small collection of all forty one-shots focusing on the Original Forty students that started Hogwarts in 1991.

 **Submission for:** 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: _Plot - Receiving Hogwarts Lette_ r

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Hannah Abbot and scared.

 **Word Count:** 640


	2. (SB) The Wayward Toad

**The Wayward Toad**

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 **Summary:** In which Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot, Hermione Granger and Neville Longbottom meet and look for one lost toad.

 **Rating:** K+

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" _Blue,"_ Susan thought as Hermione Granger introduced herself. The bushy haired girl took her seat besides Susan in the quiet train compartment. Not blue as in depressing or sad, but rather blue in the sense that Susan believed that Hermione was a Ravenclaw. Had to be if she had truly worried about whether memorizing only half their textbooks would be good enough.

"Susan Bones." Susan calmly replied as she absently fingered her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_ that was resting comfortably on her lap. She had just started the section that covered the misgivings and worries that Slytherin had for Muggle-borns being trained at Hogwarts when Hermione had entered with her school trunk and copy of the same book in hand.

That alone made Susan suspect she would be sorted into Ravenclaw. When she had introduced herself, with a brief history of her discovery of being a witch. Susan had no doubt that she would be sorted into Ravenclaw. She had a true thirst for knowledge and hunger for learning. Susan could tell for she felt exactly the same way about learning.

Before she could tell more about herself, more than just her name, another girl entered the compartment and took a seat opposite them.

"I'm Hermione Granger and this is Susan Bones," Hermione told the newcomer eagerly.

Susan nodded as Hannah Abbot introduced herself.

She was intrigued to note that they all had changed into their school robes. The train had only left the station ten to fifteen minutes ago. She quickly chalked it up to them all being excited and ready for their magical schooling to begin. It was why she had changed the moment she entered the express.

"Have you both thought of what house we will be sorted into?" Hermione began flipping through her copy of _Hogwarts, A History_. "Gryffindor, Slytherin, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff. I personally haven't come to a satisfactory decision. If only more was written about the sorting ceremony..."

Susan missed Hannah's mumbled answer as she notice the candy trolley slowly push past their compartment. Not stopping to offer them treats.

"I don't know. I would like to be Ravenclaw, the house of my father, but I've heard that sorting doesn't regard parental houses in its decision."

Hermione frowned and then nodded. "From what little is said about how one is sorted it does appear that it only reflects on the potential or merits of that student. Not family ties like you mentioned. I wonder what type of exam they will be using to place us..." she trailed off as she continued to flip through her book.

"Exam?" squeaked Hannah, "who said anything about an exam?"

"It makes sense. To require us to do an exam." Susan remarked wishing she had a chocolate frog, but not wanting to go flag down the old lady to acquire one.

"How else would they be able to sort us into the correct houses if not by means of an exam of some sort?" Hermione reasoned aloud as she skimmed through her book. Looking for something but what that something was Susan did not know.

"Written or practical?" Hannah asked leaning forward in her seat, "I mean, do you expect them to make us perform magic and brew elixirs already? When we haven't even had a single class."

Susan automatically replied with her assumption of it being a written exam at the same time Hermione voiced her thoughts on it being a more practical one. They then got into a nice long discussion about why they felt that one method was the more obvious over the other to sort them. Hannah would join in pointing out a flaw in either Hermione's or Susan's reasoning whenever it happened and the three girls spent the passing hours quite contently. Until one blonde boy timidly knocked on their compartment window.

"Come in," Susan and Hermione replied in unison and the boy opened the sliding door. He looked around the compartment and sighed.

"You haven't seen a toad by any chance? Hopping through?"

"A toad?" Susan asked drawing up her feet under herself hurriedly. Trying to avoid any toads that may be lurking under her bench.

"No we haven't," Hermione replied.

"I haven't seen one since boarding the train," added Hannah.

"Oh," the boy said rather despondently before muttering, "Trevor where are you?" before closing the door.

Susan blinked and was about to say something about the odd encounter when Hermione stood and called out as she slid the door open again. "Wait. When did you last seen your pet toad?"

The boy paused and looked at her in surprise. "Just after coming on. He was in my compartment as I changed into my robes. I left to buy some candy from the trolley and when I came back he was gone."

"We will help you look."

"We will?" Susan asked looking at Hermione in shock. A lost pet was one thing but a toad? Maybe the boy had lucked out and it had hopped out of the train to freedom? Probably not, but this was the wizarding world. Weirder things had been known to happen.

"I will at least." Hermione replied straightening her robes and joining the boy in the main corridor.

"I'll help." Hannah offered as she too got to her feet, "what does Trevor look like?"

"He's about three years old and about average size. Green."

Susan rolled her eyes and sighed for good measure before joining in on the impromptu search and rescue mission. "We'll help you look for your toad. Um, what is your name?"

The boy blushed and then cleared his throat. "Neville Longbottom."

Susan stiffened slightly. The son of Alice and Frank Longbottom. The ones terribly tortured by Bellatrix Lestrange. No wonder he was shy and rather timid.

"Susan Bones, Hannah Abbot," Hermione pointed to each one of them before pointing at herself, "and I'm Hermione Granger. Muggle-born. What train car is your compartment in?"

Neville blinked at her then gave her the number. "How does that help us find Trevor?"

"Well," Hermione began, "Susan can search that car to see if you overlook anything. Especially places where a toad could hide. Hannah and you could work together. Asking each compartment whether they have seen any toads or not. Starting from here onward to the engine. While I can retrace your steps backwards starting from here to the last car. Just in case he has been spotted since you last asked." She quickly added.

"Oh," was Neville's only reply before he and Hannah began working forward. Susan didn't argue with Hermione's logic, as she didn't see anything faulty about it, but she was not a toad-person and secretly wished she wouldn't be running into Trevor anytime soon.

" _Blue. She is clearly blue."_ Susan thought again as she heard Hermione knock on a compartment down from theirs and began her questioning. _"Or, maybe a little bit red."_ she finally conceded to herself. A Gryffindor would do something like orchestrating a toad search for a missing pet toad.

 _Fini_

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 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: _Plot - Being on the Hogwarts Express_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Susan Bones. Blue.

 **Word Count:** 1,171


	3. (TB) Platform 9 and Three Quarters

**Platform 9 and Three-Quarters**

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 **Summary:** In which Terry Boot is happy to see a friend as he enters Platform 9 ¾ for the first time.

 **Rating:** K

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"Do you have everything you need Terry?" His mother asked as they neared the entry way to Platform 9 ¾.

"Yes mom," he automatically replied as they waited in the small queue for their turn to phase through the brickwork and out onto Platform 9 ¾. "I have everything."

"Your father was planning on being here. To see you off Terry," his mother began as they inched closer to the brickwork, "but being called out to that forest all the way over in Gloucestershire -"

"It's alright mom. Really." Terry reassured his mother for the third time that morning since his father was paged out to investigate an anomaly deep within the Forest of Dean. Just as he was about to explain that he understood that his father's work was important he heard his friend Anthony Goldstein's voice two families behind them.

"Mother please stop worrying. I will be fine."

"I'm a mother. I have to worry." Mrs. Goldstein replied dusting off her only son's coat. "I wish your father had closed up shop to be here. What's more important? Seeing his son off to boarding school or selling clothes I ask you."

Terry couldn't help but smile upon hearing his friend having to deal with his mother like Terry had to as he ran through the brickwork pushing his luggage trolley before him.

His smile broadened as he saw the Hogwarts Express before him. This was it. He had finally made it.

"Terry? Terry!" Anthony called after he had also phased through the brick barrier that separated the rest of King's Cross from the platform they were now standing on. "Where's your dad?"

"He was called out to investigate something," he briefly explained as their mothers exchanged pleasantries. Terry looked over at the cage that sat on top of Anthony's luggage and noted the small brown dotted owl housed within. "I didn't know your parents finally agreed to you having an owl. What his name?"

"She's a Little Owl. I'm thinking of calling her Esther or Sarah. Haven't decided yet."

"Esther," Terry voted as he wished he had been allowed to bring his dog Jeff along. He had been told that he could buy a new pet to bring along, but that Hogwarts just did not accept dogs. He had no desire to buy another pet so he hadn't. Not wanting Jeff to think he had been replaced.

"Which subject are you most looking forward to?" Anthony asked, quickly changing the subject when he noticed the slight frown on his friend's face. Which reminded him Terry had wanted to bring his black Labrador Retriever along but couldn't.

"Transfiguration and charms," Terry answered thankful for his friend changing topics, "and you? I bet you're looking forward to History of Magic."

"Maybe, but I am actually looking forward to astronomy."

They continued talking as they began unloading their luggage trolleys and boarding the train. Pausing to bid farewell to their mothers. Even bringing up pros and cons concerning all core required classes as they settled into their compartment. Dressed in their school robes and their black school issued hats on. Both boys ready for the adventure to begin.

 _Fini_

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 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: _Plot – Meeting a friend at King's Cross Station_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Terry Boot. Forest.

 **Word Count:** 544


	4. (MB) The Magical World

**The Magical World**

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 **Summary:** In which Mandy Brocklehurst is sorted.

 **Rating:** K

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Mandy had always been a very curious girl. Becoming interested in fantasy stories of far off magical lands inhabited by mythical creatures filled with heroes and a villain or two lurking in the shadows. An interest that started when her father would read to her nightly tales from Beedle the Bard. It blossomed into an active curiosity when her mother introduced her to the _Chronicles of Narnia_ on the eve of her seventh birthday.

When she had received her letter for Hogwarts she had been enthusiastic. Not being able to sleep for several days afterwards. When her parents had escorted her to Diagon Alley to acquire her school supplies she felt like she had just stepped into a wardrobe and into another world. Like her hero Lucy Pevensie had when she discovered Narnia.

Mandy had been counting down the days till her adventure would start. Till she was sorted into a house and begin her training in witchcraft. Although, she was adamant that she would be a good witch, like Glinda from Oz, and not an evil one, like Jadis.

Now, however, she was tense and uneasy as she stood in the Great Hall waiting to be called forth to be sorted. Not once over the weeks since she had gotten her letter had she thought what house she would be placed in. Now she wondered if her assumption that she would be sorted into her father's house, Hufflepuff, was accurate after all.

Mandy gulped as she realized she would be called.

"Mandy Brocklehurst," Professor McGonagall called as Terry Boot stepped down from the stool. She calmly moved forward and took her seat and waited with baited breath as the hat was lowered down upon her.

 _"Hmm,"_ it began, " _quite a curious girl you have always been I see. Inquisitive and intriguing mind._ " It chuckled before continuing, " _have tried a few wardrobes I see. Trying to find if they led anywhere."_

"They might have. Led somewhere you know." she defended, "after all, there are wizards and witches. And, magic."

 _"Quite right. Quite right."_ she waited as the hat muttered to itself on where it should place her. Finally, it began, _"only one house for you. Better be:_

"RAVENCLAW!" it exclaimed aloud.

Mandy blinked and walked over to her house table. Ravenclaw. She was a Ravenclaw. She would have to ask her father if anyone had ever been sorted into Ravenclaw. All the ancestors she remembered hearing about were from Hufflepuff. She didn't exactly feel like a Ravenclaw. Maybe the hat had made a mistake?

While wondering if she was the first in her family to be sorted into Ravenclaw she joined Terry at their new house table and watched Lavender Brown be sorted into Gryffindor. Which piqued her interests as she contemplated a possible pattern emerging. The first two had been sorted into Hufflepuff. She and Terry had been sorted into Ravenclaw. If there was a pattern, then Millicent Bulstrode would be sorted into Gryffindor.

"Slytherin!" The hat exclaimed as Millicent stepped down from the stool.

Mandy shook her head and sighed. Not a pattern then.

"You thought she would be in Gryffindor, didn't you?" Mandy turned from watching Michael Corner take the stool to Terry.

"I might have," she began trying to read Terry in the candlelight, "why you ask?"

"The emerging pattern or something that looked like a pattern, but turned out it wasn't."

"That's right. Did you saw it too?"

He shrugged. "Yes. Was hard not to notice really."

Just as she was about to agree Michael was proclaimed a fellow Ravenclaw and joined them. Terry's attention was now back on the ceremony and Mandy turned back to the stool and the student – she had sadly missed his name when it was called – being sorted before them. She had never been near someone who saw a pattern emerging or anything close to it. She had been somewhat of an outcast in her last school.

Maybe the hat hadn't made a mistake. Maybe she belonged here. In Ravenclaw. Maybe.

 _Fini_

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 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: _Plot – Being Sorted_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Mandy Brocklehurst. Interested.

 **Word Count:** 673


	5. (LB) The Letter From Home

**Letter From Hom**

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 **Summary:** In which Lavender Brown receives a letter from home and ponders what the future may hold.

 **Rating:** K

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Lavender was busy buttering her toast when her family's barn owl, Alfred, swooped into the Great Hall carrying an envelope. She caught the letter and throw up a piece of sausage to him before opening the letter. It was from her mother, like she had expected it would be seeing that her father was not one to write. After the pleasantries, like who had recently gotten engaged or had to leave suddenly to the States for several months, etc, her mother began asking how Lavender was, if she was enjoying Hogwarts or being in Gryffindor, what sort of friends she had made since beginning school, and what class was her favorite.

Lavender sighed and rolled up the letter and placed it in her school bag. She would answer it in between double potions and herbology later on, before lunch. Since classes were about to begin.

However, it hadn't been till almost bedtime before she could sit down and focus on writing a response to her mother's letter. She answered the first three questions without issue. She was well. She loved Hogwarts and had made a few friends. A few enemies as well, but she felt she shouldn't burden her mother with that knowledge. It was the last one that made her stop and think about her answer.

What class was her favorite?

She knew that before attending Hogwarts she had always dreamed of brewing potions, but now after sitting through four of Professor Snape's classes on the art and science of potions she had second thoughts. She hadn't had any disasters like poor Longbottom had, but she wasn't anywhere near the level that Malfoy, who appeared to be a natural at brewing, was at. She was just average on potions. With that and the added realization that the fumes and heat emitting from a bubbling cauldron would ruin any beauty charms squashed her hopes at pursuing a mastery in potions.

Next childhood dream was being a Quidditch star. Flying like the wind and bringing her team to victory. She had thought she would be a natural flyer. Like her mother. But, that had not been the case. When she had kicked off the ground for the first time two days ago she had gripped the broom handle, wanting to scream, and nearly did when her broom bucked nearly kicking her lose. Flying was not for her.

She continued mentally going through class after class she began to fear that she didn't have any class she loved and did great in. The thought worried her. She began chewing the tip of her quill out of habit. A silly habit that would appear whenever she was stressed or perplexed. As she chewed she remembered defense against the dark arts. She had shown promise in defense. Professor Quirrell had said so. True that they hadn't had much practical experience yet, but she had done quite good on the theory so far. Surely, the practical would be similar to the theory. Right?

Lavender sighed and refilled her quill.

When she finished she checked her response. Not a bad letter, she thought as she folded it and inserted into the already addressed envelope. Making sure to apply the wax seal firmly to the back of it before slipping it into her school bag to be delivered to her pet owl, Pep, in the morning.

As she readied for bed she wondered if in two years' time that she might find another class, like Divination or Care of Magical Creatures, to be her niche. After all, one could never be too certain about the future. Well, unless they were a seer of course.

 _Fini_

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 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: _Plot – Favorite Class at Hogwarts_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Lavender Brown. Scream.

 **Word Count:** 605


	6. (MB) A Little Advice From a Future Enemy

**A Little Advice From a Future Enemy**

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 **Summary:** In which Millicent Bulstrode looks down her nose at Gryffindors and makes an enemy in the process.

 **Rating:** K+

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Millicent was really beginning to hate potions class.

Not due to her Head of House's somewhat questionable teaching methods or his quick reprimand if you happen to misstep. She didn't have any issue with that. Potion brewing was a dangerous subject and she much rather be on the receiving end of a sharp-tongued rebuke then struck down by poisonous fumes any day.

It wasn't the issue of handling malodorous or questionable ingredients. Or, having to redo her hair after class. She wasn't girlish or one to dabble in frilliness like using makeup or adorning ornaments upon her person in a vain attempt to beautify herself. She knew she wasn't a rare or delicate beauty and refused to waste time with lying to herself. One could not turn a Troll's ear into a silk hat.

No, Millicent was beginning to loathe potions class due to having to take it with those inapt, and thus potentially dangerous, Gryffindors.

She didn't exactly detest Gryffindors just for being Gryffindors – that would be narrow sighted and bigoted in her opinion – or did she dislike all Gryffindors. Take that Weasley who was a Gryffindor Prefect. He seemed rather reasonable, and thereby she found him likeable. For a Gryffindor.

It was the prats like Longbottom, Weasley (the Prefect's youngest brother), Potter, Finnigan and Granger that was beginning to turn Millicent's like for potions to one of contempt. All, save Granger, were a bunch of accident prone dolts who should never be allowed near open flame much less a brewing cauldron.

Granger had started out decent enough. She at least understood the basic concepts and had read the text before class. Not to mention that she wasn't prone to making accidents. The main trouble was she overtly offered unwarranted help to others who clearly did not want her input and she kept trying to be friendly and helpful regardless if she received thanks or recognition for her actions.

In short, Hermione Granger was practically a walking doormat in Millicent's opinion. She detested girls who allowed themselves to be walked over. To her, it translated out to being weak and soft. Not having the essential strength to defend themselves or having enough faith in their own merits.

Just earlier that week Millicent had observed her try to help Potter and Weasley by whispering that they had the order wrong. Which they did. They were about to add the ingredients in backwards order then what was written for that potion. Weasley had whispered back some rather unfriendly observations and comments. Like, "Minding her own potion" and "who asked you?" Potter, on the other hand, had paused and checked the instructions. He showed Weasley and they were able to brew an acceptable potion. Although, not once did either of them offer thanks or acknowledgement to Granger. She had been the one to bring their error to their attention.

Professor Snape's entrance into the classroom drew Millicent's attention away from her inner musings and back on potions. Where it should have been in the first place, she silently criticized herself as she opened her book to the assigned page for today's lesson.

Near the end of the lesson, Millicent was ready to hex Granger. Her loud whispers to Potter, Longbottom, and even Finnigan was getting unbearable. Then Longbottom and Finnigan, who had been paired up (apparently Professor Snape had a secret death wish, who knew?), set fire to their ingredients. Not their potion which was bubbling right along, but the ingredients that rested on their worktable.

Professor Snape had come quickly over to the scene of the fire. His wand at the ready when a small explosion bloomed up from their cauldron. Potter had been pushed backwards by the force of the small blast and collided with Granger.

The resulting aftermath and clean up went pretty much to what was becoming routine. Professor Snape would scold Potter, with a few words of admonishment aimed at Longbottom and Finnigan. Clean the mess and order whoever was in need of medical care or first aid to Madam Pomfrey. A detention or two perhaps, and then it would be back to classwork.

This time, however, Potter had broken his glasses when they had skidded across the stone floor as he fell. Snape having seen the obvious cracks and fractures of the lenses was just about to deduct more points from Gryffindor for lack of safety when Granger covertly repaired Potter's glasses while they were in his hands.

From there it would not take a genius to see the following dialog. The denials, the feigned innocence, and then Professor Snape dismissing class for the day, with Gryffindor not losing any more points, (points they had rightfully lost) Granger would pitifully wait around for praise or thanks from Potter and then frown when none came.

The whole thing was pathetic and ergo Granger was pathetic.

oOo

Millicent frowned as she spotted Granger studying in the library that evening. She was alone and almost hidden in between four huge book stacks that Millicent would argue that Professor Flitwick would call towers.

Instead of just ignoring Granger and continuing on her search for that astronomical book she had come for she took the unoccupied chair across from Granger and cleared her throat. It had its desired effect for Granger immediately looked up from her book. Millicent smirked when she saw Granger's surprise at finding her there.

"Can I help you?" Granger asked cautiously.

"No."

Granger raised an eyebrow. "I don't mean to be rude, but why are you here?"

"To give a word of advice. Stop being a doormat."

"Excuse me," Granger blinked and set her jaw, "I'm no doormat."

"Think again. You cover for your housemates but they never cover for you in return or say thanks. This is the fifteenth time I've seen you in here by yourself and yet, you continue to bend over backwards to answer questions, or finish activities first or to give the answers to Potter."

"I don't have to listen to this," Granger frowned and crossed her arms, "and how do you know whether I've been thanked or not?"

"By using my two eyes and my brain," Millicent resisted the urge to roll her eyes, "look you know its true, or you are one heck of an actor. Use your brains and stop being so pathetic. Especially around your crush, Potter. It's just sad."

"I don't have a crush on Harry," Granger hissed.

"It's alright if you do. Everyone here has had a crush one time or another on the mysterious and powerful Boy-Who-Lived. I've even had one when I was three."

"I said that I don't have a crush on Harry Potter." Granger reiterated evenly.

Millicent continued as if Granger hadn't spoken. "Whether it's because he has a lightning bolt scar, was an orphan, defeated He-Who-Shouldn't-Be-Named or his ridiculous glasses everyone sooner or later fantasizes about him. But, he clearly does not like you. Stop being a fool and wise up."

"Are you finish?"

"Yes, I think I am." Millicent agreed as she stood and left the table her belongings in hand. Whispering loud enough for Granger to hear, "you're still a doormat," as she made her way to the circulation desk.

 _Fini_

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 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: _Plot – Making an enemy_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Millicent Bulstrode. Glasses.

 **Word Count:** 1,214


	7. (MC) Dueling Fools

**Dueling Fools**

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 **Summary:** In which Michael Corner duels and loses during the first doomed meeting of the Duelling Club hosted by Professors Snape and Lockhart.

 **Rating:** T (Just to be safe): Brief mention of blood...

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Micheal cried out as he felt the mild slicing hex cut his wand hand making him drop it and examine his hand. It hurt like the Devil but it wasn't too bad. Not a paper cut but it shouldn't require stitches. His blood glittering in the candlelight and he fought not to be ill.

He looked over at Runcorn, the one who had sent the little nasty hex his way, as he retrieved his wand from the floor. Just as he was about to fire back a hex that would leave her with acne-ridden features for the next several days he noticed the chaos that had developed around them. He looked on as he saw Millicent and Hermione drop their wands in flavor of wrestling each other. The Muggle way no less. Then Weasley trying to revive Thomas from whatever mutated hex had knocked him out. Potter and Malfoy had also disobeyed the orders issued by Professor Snape. To only perform the disarming charm. He blinked and took a step back.

Maybe joining a dueling club hadn't been the best idea he had had, but he had wanted to be prepared and be instructed in the formal ways of dueling. A subject that was usually taught after Hogwarts.

Thankfully, Professor Snape stepped in and used the General Counter-Spell and order was renewed. As he was making his way over to Professor Lockhart to have his cut taken care of, since it was a thin cut running several inches up his wrist, he stopped and decided that it might be better not to ask him for medical help after all, when he heard the Professor's words of advice concerning Terry's injury. A cut that was longer and deeper than his.

Micheal took out a handkerchief and wrapped it around his wrist. It wasn't ideal but at least it would do till he could stop by the school infirmary later on.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** September Event (HSWW) and the 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

 **September Event Prompt:** _Plot – Duelling with someone from Hogwarts_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Michael Corner. Glittering.

 **Word Count:** 319


	8. (VC) Dark Magic Mixed with Lust

**Dark Magic Mixed With Lust**

* * *

 **Summary:** Be warned this story has dark themes. In which Vincent Crabbe reflects how he has fallen for his Professor Alecto Carrow.

 **Rating:** T

* * *

 **Warnings:** Implications of a cross-generation manipulative relationship between a student and a teacher. Mentions of torture and engaging in Dark rituals to enhance or gain the ability to handle Dark and Cursed Magic.

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

Draco had been issued into the elite ranks of the Death Eaters, had been ordered to kill that old fool of a Headmaster and to establish a way for the Death Eaters to safely enter Hogwarts grounds. Without telling him or Goyle, and he achieved it. Well, mostly. If the rumors that Professor Snape had been the one to finish off Dumbledore were correct.

Vincent was numb. He didn't know what to think. He knew he felt betrayed, forgotten and used. They were supposed to be friends. He and Goyle had humiliated themselves by using Polyjuice Potion to turn themselves into carbon copies of mudblood girls to stand watch and guard the Room of Requirement while Draco fixed the vanishing cabinet. And what thanks or recognition did they get? Nothing.

Slowly his numbness gave way to grief and loneliness. He and Goyle had been left behind by someone they considered a friend. Not a close friend like Goyle, but still a friend none the less. Not to draw any undue attention to himself or Goyle they attended Dumbledore's funeral.

Students and teachers alike still gave them looks. Some were pitying - which Vincent hated - others of scorn, and then there were the very few looks of fear and unease. Although, the latter came mostly from the first and second years. He had always liked being feared and respected. He was a pure-blood. He should be revered and respected by lesser bloods and mudbloods.

 **oOo**

Vincent slammed his fists into his room's wall. He was "too young" to receive the Dark Mark. To join the ranks alongside his father. Ha! He was several months older than Draco _Bloody_ Malfoy. Who had joined the ranks last year! It was not fair. Not fair!

He winced as the rush of adrenaline receded and the first tendrils of pain crept up his arm from his deformed, and most likely broken, hand. The charmed wall that was enchanted to mend itself was glistering like new. He retrieved some potions from his closet and began taking them. His hand slowly mending itself back together. Before long it was restored to its original state.

The recent confrontation between himself and his father replayed itself as he took a seat and surveyed the back garden from his private chamber's window.

 _"No. You're not ready. You are too young."_

 _"Draco joined last year! I want to join. No, I need to join Father."_ He had argued, praying that his father would change his mind, allow him to ensure his rightful place in the ranks.

His father had studied him for a long moment before waving his request aside.

 _"You are not well versed enough in the Dark Arts. You are still too soft when it comes to seeking vengeance from mudblood and blood traitors. You are still a spoiled brat. Nowhere close to becoming a man much less a Dark Wizard."_ His father paused as he took a step closer to his son, _"still a schoolyard bully."_

 _"I am not just a bully!"_ He had shouted back, hurt from his father's dismissal of his skills and abilities. _"I can become a powerful Dark Wizard with the right training. The training I can only get from other Death Eaters._ "

" _No."_

The short tense seconds of silence that encircled them before Vincent reluctantly relented to his father's wishes seemed to have stretched on for hours, not ten seconds which was how long it had lasted.

 _"How can I know when I'm ready to join you and the others, father?"_

His father smiled. _"When you can successfully do the unforgivables and cursed magic without remorse. Then you may join us."_

Vincent turned away from his window and paced the length of his chambers. He could see how he could become efficient at performing the unforgivables, after all, Professor Crouch Jr. had taught them about those and even illustrated them in class during his fourth year. He could capture some Pygmy Puffs or mice and practice then.

That sounded easy enough, but the main wrinkle was performing and handling cursed magic and dark magic. Where was he going to learn how to do that?

 **oOo**

Vincent smirked as he saw the disobedient Gryffindor student writhing on the floor before him, and to think he had made that happen by muttering a few words and waving his wand.

"Excellent," Purred Alecto Carrow as she stood beside him. Guiding him. "You are a natural Vincent."

He felt himself straighten and grin as he heard her praise before casting Cruciatus Curse once more on the rebellious third-year.

His seventh year was fast becoming his favorite and best year out of all six previous years at Hogwarts. He wasn't pitied by the other students. He wasn't the butt of jokes, and he was being personally trained by Alecto Carrow in the ways of the Dark Arts. Personally being shaped into a powerful Dark Wizard. With her guidance and her brother's instruction in using the Dark Arts, and not that poor excuse for a subject: Defense Against the Dark Arts.

"That should be enough," Alecto commented stepping closer to Vincent and placing her hand on his arm, "for now. Headmaster Snape frowns on killing students. Even rebellious, blood traitorous Gryffindors."

She spat the last part before kicking the third-year in the ribs. Her sharp rebuke to stop crying and go back to his tower was slowly obeyed as the Gryffindor crawled out of the classroom and into the corridors.

Vincent pocketed his wand and covertly looked at his instructor. She was not an attractive witch in the modern sense, and she was twenty-one years his senior, but he was becoming more and more enamored with her. She was a Dark Witch and a powerful one. Not as zealous as Madam Lestrange but her zeal for afflicting vengeance on those that had turned on their heritage and the filth was addicting to his senses. Maddening even.

It was like he had been hit with Cupid's arrow and gifted with an apt teacher and tutor.

 **oOo**

"Vincent?"

He looked up from his book, one that Alecto had suggested the week before, and waited for Goyle to finish his thought. "Yes?"

"You've been ... different recently. Have you..."

"Have I what?" He asked trying to keep his annoyance at bay. This was Goyle after all.

Goyle sighed and shook his head, "Nevermind."

Vincent felt his eyebrow rise but shrugged it off. He had not been the same since Draco forsake them at the end of last year and Vincent was anxious to get back to the new section of his text: cursed fire. It would be his third cursed magic learned if he could understand how to control and apply it.

He missed Goyle's small shake of his head before returning to his Dark Arts textbook.

 **oOo**

His private lessons concerning ritual magic did not begin until the week preceding Easter holidays. He had agreed to stay at Hogwarts and learn from her the ways of controlling others and obtaining otherwise unthinkable magic.

Only once did he ask himself if he loved Alecto. He had remarkably answered himself rather quick.

Yes.

Not that mushy and weak kind of love. No a strong one forged in magic and lust. He did not harbor any unrealistic ideals of marriage or life-long companionship. He was becoming a powerful Dark Wizard in his own right, soon he would be over Alecto's knowledge and aid. Back that wouldn't be till after completing his education and joining the Dark Lord. Her vote for him to be included into the Death Eaters would be needed since he doubted his father would invite him into the circle.

He chuckled as he realized in a strange way that one of his naive hopes as a child, way before attending Hogwarts, was to find love within its sacred walls had indeed come to past. He pushed aside the still pestering nagging voice that whispered in his ear that this was not love. Not real love.

Ha!

He didn't need _real_ love.

Real love made one weak and he was anything but weak. Not anymore.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** September Event (HSWW) and the 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

 **September Event Prompt:** _Plot –_ _Finding love at Hogwarts_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Vincent Crabbe. Arrow.

 **Word Count:** 1,351.


	9. (SC) Pranks and Maps Equal Trouble

**Pranks and Maps Equal Trouble**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Stephen agrees to break several Hogwarts rules for his friend.

 **Rating:** K

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

Stephen frowned as he heard Kevin's plan on how they could get back at the Weasley Twins for pranking Kevin's older sister, Diana, earlier that week.

"I don't know about this Kevin," Stephen began as he surveyed the impromptu sketch work of a rough map. A map of Hogwarts. Wishing that they had a better one. One that could denote passageways and forgotten or hidden treasures. Maybe the last bit about the treasure was a tad much but he could dream, couldn't he? "The Weasley Twins are pretty much loved or at least looked at through a favorable light. And, we might lose points for Ravenclaw if they discover it was us."

"We aren't going to win the House Cup, at least as long as Potter is in Gryffindor, so if we use some points it wouldn't matter. . . are you with me on this? I need to know."

Stephen paused and studied his dormmate and friend. As a rule, they both were pretty lay backed and rarely got into trouble, but when Kevin got a notion to do some mischief they would be sneaking around after curfew, hexing unexpected students and just generally getting into trouble at Hogwarts.

"Okay," he finally agreed, "but if we get caught we share the blame evenly?"

"Of course."

Stephen nodded his head and pointed at the map, "Run me through what your master plan is again."

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** September Event (HSWW) and the 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

 **September Event Prompt:** _Plot – Getting into trouble at Hogwarts_ ** _Hogwarts_**

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Stephen Cornfoot. Okay.

 **Word Count:** 238


	10. (TD) A Little Fun Never Hurt Anyone

**A Little Fun Never Hurt Anyone**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Tracey Davis plays some chess to take her mind off of classwork.

 **Rating:** K

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

Tracey dropped her book bag down beside her as she fell, rather unlady like according to the other Slytherin onlookers, into one of the many overstaffed chairs that adorned the Slytherin Common Room.

Millicent looked up at Tracey and eyed her with a bemused expression.

"Long day?" she asked.

"You could say that. I had to finish up three different projects that are due in tomorrow and I had the _luck_ of passing Malfoy and Potter bickering in the main corridor."

"You shouldn't put things off till the last minute Trace."

"Yes, mother. Whatever you say, mother." Tracy sarcastically remarked punctuating every other word with a wave of her hand.

"Have it your way then," Millicent shrugged, "you'll find that every term will just get harder and that you will have to cut back on fun actives just so you can stay enrolled."

"I know. I just don't wanna." She whined as she placed her aching feet on the coffee table between them.

They sat in comfortable silence till Tracy sat back up. "Want to play some chess?"

"Not really, no."

"Come on. Please? I need some fun-time before having to finish up my transfiguration homework."

Millicent toyed with criticizing Tracy before deciding to let the matter drop. "Okay. But, only if you allow me to play green while you play the silver."

Tracy pouted before accepting Millicent's terms. She really needed to do something fun and not school related.

The one game turned into three and Millicent came out victorious with a 1 game led. Tracy hadn't cared that her housemate had won. The hour of playing Wizards Chess had been fun, and that was her goal . To have fun.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** September Event (HSWW) and the 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

 **September Event Prompt:** _Plot – Interaction with a teacher_ ** _Hogwarts_**

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Tracey Davis. Fun.

 **Word Count:** 291


	11. (KE) Apples Can Hurt When Thrown

**Apples Can Hurt When Thrown**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Kevin Entwhistle declares war against his friend Kevin. A war that is mainly just one big food fight.

 **Rating:** K

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

Kevin sighed as he leaned back against his favorite tree overlooking the Black Lake. His books and notes laying between him and his friend Stephen Cornfoot. It was early March and Spring was in full swing. Flowers were beginning to bloom. Assorted wildlife was out and about the grounds again, and he was happy for the warmer and sunnier days of Spring.

"Kevin? Earth to Kevin."

Kevin turned his attention from the lake back to Stephen. "What is it?"

Stephen sighed and threw one of the apples he had snagged from breakfast at Kevin. Hitting him squarely in his right arm.

"Hey! What was that for?"

"I have been talking to you for the last ten minutes. You didn't hear a word of that."

"Sorry," Kevin finally admitted as he finished rubbing his arm where the book had hit seconds before. "I got distracted."

"Yeah, obviously."

Kevin smirked as an idea popped into his head. If Stephen wanted to throw random food at him then he could follow suit. Like the old saying goes, fight fire with fire. Or, in this case, apple with apple.

"What were you going on about again?" he asked as he gathered the apple that had been used on him and threw it. Hitting Stephen in the chest. "Hah! Gotcha!"

"Says the guy with no more ammunition handy," Stephen smirks flicking his wand at the five apples near him which caused them to lift into the air and hovered there briefly before Stephen proudly proclaimed, "Food fight!"

Kevin yelped and grabbed a book to shield him as the apples bombarded him.

"This means war!" he shouted behind his book before flicking his wand at the three bananas that he had brought out from breakfast. Before long both boys were caught in a crazy magical food fight, not noticing or really caring that several students had stopped their activities to see them throw fruit at each other.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** September Event (HSWW) and the 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

 **September Event Prompt:** Object _– Apple_ ** _Hogwarts_**

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Kevin Entwhistle. Happy.

 **Word Count:** 330


	12. (JFF) Stuck in Bed

**Stuck in Bed**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Justin Finch-Fletchley deals with boredom while laying up in the school's infirmary.

 **Rating:** K

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

Justin humphed as he looked around the small infirmary bed he had been placed in. Thanks to one of Kevin and Stephen's pranks in potions that day he was looking at spending the evening confined to bed as his leg bones knit themselves back together.

He wished he had brought something along in his school bag that could be at least somewhat fun and distracting from the boredom that threatened to drive him up the wall. Like a deck of exploding snap or his Wizards Chess set, or even his small chocolate frog collection. Instead of extra-sheets of parchment and three extra quills.

He could always sketch or write something, but he wasn't really in the mood for that.

That left only one thing: sitting in bed starring at the ceiling. An activity he wasn't really looking forward to.

He would even settle for a Muggle dart board and some darts... he blinked as a cray idea struck him. He could charm a sheet of parchment to float right at the foot of the bed and then transfigure the quills into darts. Or, at least sharpen their points.

And, that was just what he did. He drew a basic dart board and attached it to the bed's foot board and with the three extra quills made into darts he played seven games of darts. He would have played eight, but Madam Pomfrey had told him to put it aside and try to get some sleep. That with some rest the potion should have a better effect. So, he settled down and allowed sleep to come, and with it dreams. Dreams of darts and target practice against Robin Hood as his bones knitted themselves together.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** September Event (HSWW) and the 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

 **September Event Prompt:** Object _– Quill_ ** _Hogwarts_**

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Justin Finch-Fletchley. Bed.

 **Word Count:** 284.


	13. (SF) Fires can Happen

**Fires Can Happen**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Seamus Finnigan runs into some bullies.

 **Rating:** K+

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

"You give me that back Crabbe!" Seamus pleaded as he tried to snatch back his school bag. "I'm going to be late for astronomy. Just give it back."

"Why if it isn't Firebug Finnigan," Malfoy drawled as he and Goyle joined Crabbe.

"Don't call me that Malfoy. I don't start fires on purpose. They just happen."

Malfoy raised his hand to stop Crabbe from speaking and made a show of searching for someone. Someone who clearly wasn't there. "Where's your shadow?"

Seamus frowned, confused. "My what?"

"Your shadow. The _Mudblood_ Thomas."

"Don't call him that!" Seamus defended as he tried to reach his bag again. "He's probably already at the astronomy tower."

Malfoy raised an eyebrow. "Off for a quick snog are we then?"

Seamus blinked before glaring at Malfoy. "We have a class. Astronomy. We aren't dating."

"Whatever helps you sleep at night."

Seamus had the strong urge to smack that smug smirk off of Malfoy's ugly face but he controlled his temper or tried to.

Suddenly, his bag that Crabbe was still holding bloomed into flames. Crabbe squeaked and dropped it as Malfoy and Goyle took a step back from it. The Slytherin Trio half expecting it to explode in a minute.

It didn't.

Seamus cast a quick water charm he had memorized for such a situation as this and snatched his bag before running down the corridor in a dead run.

He sighed as he made it to class without out a second to spare. Only to find that all his notes and books had turned into several big piles of blackened, wet ash. To say that he was sad would be an understatement.

 _Damn Malfoy._

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** September Event (HSWW) and the 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

 **September Event Prompt:** Object _– Rucksack/Bag_ ** _Hogwarts_**

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Seamus Finnigan. Sad.

 **Word Count:** 264


	14. (AG) Happy Hanukkah, Anthony

**Happy Hanukkah, Anthony**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Anthony and the rest of his dorm-mates share a typical evening in their dorm up in the Ravenclaw Tower… Well, maybe not so typical this time.

 **Rating:** K

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

Anthony and Terry were greeted with the pleasant aroma of citrus as they entered their dorm. Their school bags and arms heavy with books they had obtained from the school library moments before. Their dorm was the standard size and crescent-shape that all Ravenclaw dorms came in. It was comfortable and functional with the five beds, five nightstands, bookcases, desks and in the middle where the crescent was the broadest sat a small sitting area complete with a coffee table, chairs rug and an enchanted grate affixed to the wall. The grate didn't guard a fireplace or furnace but did function as a sort of air control system. In that, it would provide cool or warm air depending on the current season and weather.

"What's with the oranges?" Terry was the first to ask as he made his way directly over to the sitting area and picked up one the many that sat in a crate atop the coffee table. He blinked when he saw another crate, this time, filled with lemons, on the ground aside of the table. "And, lemons?"

"I don't know," Anthony replied honestly as he joined his friend and examined the crates. "It doesn't have any labels on them."

"That was not a bad practice actually," came Stephen's voice as he opened the door to the dorm and entered.

"Choir was rather tedious. With old Christmas carols taking up the whole evening." Kevin added as he closed the door after him.

Terry and Anthony could see that they had just come from band and choir practice. Kevin being in the choir while Stephen played flute in the band.

"Hey, Terry. Anthony. Short day at the library this time?" Stephen asked in way of greeting.

Before they could answer Michael arrived. His arms ladened with two wooden crates. He smiled as he greeted his dorm mates.

"Happy December Eve guys! Thought we should get decorating for Yule early. Since we all going home over the holidays."

"Good idea," Stephen agreed putting his flute away before joining the others over in the sitting area. He frowned as he noticed the four crates of limes, lemons, oranges and grapefruit. "What's with the fruit?"

"They're for the Yuletide season," Michael explained as he rearranges the crates to provide more room on the table. When he noticed everyone's confused expression he asked, "Don't your families decorate with citrus?"

Anthony's brows wrinkled and exchanged looks with Terry, Kevin, and Stephen before they all replied in unison that no they didn't.

"You got to be kidding."

"Nope," Terry, Kevin and Stephen reaffirmed.

"I'm Jewish. So, I don't celebrate Yule or Christmas." Anthony explained picking up an orange and pealing it slowly.

"I didn't know you were Jewish," Kevin replied taking his seat at the central table.

"I didn't know either," Stephen said selecting a fruit from each crate.

"Same here," Michael added as he began pealing an orange.

"You didn't? I thought it was rather obvious." Anthony remarked, surprised. "I don't do any school actives on Saturday, and haven't you wondered why I get different food choices served to me sometimes? When you are eating pork I'm eating chicken or grains for example."

Michael, Kevin and Stephen exchange looks before shaking their heads no.

"Wow. Okay then." Anthony trailed off, shock at the revelation.

"Hey," piped in Terry as he grabbed a grapefruit and sliced it with his pocketknife, "it took me about three years of hanging with him to see that he was Jewish. So don't feel bad about missing it."

His remarked had the intended effect and everyone shared a quick laugh.

Anthony was grateful when the focus of attention was shifted off of him back to the fruit and what Michael had envisioned doing for decoration purposes. He did not like being the center of attention. He rather liked being on the boundary, so to speak.

As the night progressed the small group of Ravenclaw students had managed to create two dozen ornaments that were hybrids of the four citrus fruits in various shapes: crescents, stars, circles, pentagrams, and triangles. Before turning for the night each boy, except Anthony who chose not to use them, placed one of each shape ornament somewhere on their own belongings or assigned furniture. The remaining ornaments they affixed randomly throughout the room.

"And, I believe we're done," Michael announced as he placed the last pentagram directly above the grate by the sitting area. "Happy December guys!"

Anthony frowned and checked the time. Sure enough, it was one minute past midnight and the start of December. Just one day till Hanukkah would start. He went to his trunk and pulled out the small bronze menorah and placed it in his window. He observed it for a moment before taking out his old dreidel and placing on the shelf below the menorah.

"Happy December."

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** The 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: Object _– Dormitory_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Anthony Goldstein. Orange.

 **Word Count:** 809.


	15. (GG) Memories are Made of This

**Memories Are Made of This**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Gregory Goyle takes a trip down memory lane.

 **Rating:** K+

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

"That stupid rat," Gregory cursed as he examined his finger again as he followed Vincent and Draco back into their compartment. Neither of the three boys noticing a person sitting in the corner by the window. Only his eyes moving as he watched them take their seats.

"I bet it'll leave a scar," Vincent said as he looked it over before dismissing it with a shake of his head.

"I hope not."

"Potter is clearly a fool. Choosing to befriend someone like Weasley." Draco huffed and crossed his arms. "Both should be taught a lesson in manners."

Vincent and Gregory hummed their agreement before the trio fell into a tensed silence for the remainder of the ride. Gregory sighed and focused on the passing scenery out of the window as he ignored the throbbing from his finger.

 **o0o**

Draco had come up with a clever way to get back at Potter and Weasley about a month later. To jinx their potions' work desk to topple over at the right moment: when their potion would be bubbling on the fire. Gregory and Vincent had been quick to agree with Draco's plan, and the following potions class they did like Draco told them to do. It had been a little hard to cast the proper incantation discreetly, but they were able to do so without gaining undue interest. Now all they had to do was wait for the fireworks.

It only took forty minutes into brewing before the desk began to wobble and Longbottom gasped backing away from Potter and Weasley's doomed brew and colliding into his own cauldron. In spite of Granger's best efforts to stop her and Longbottom's potion from spilling, it toppled over and washed over Granger. Then like it had been orchestrated Potter and Weasley's cauldron toppled over too. Splashing their robes and their shoes in the brew. Completely covering them in purple warm liquid.

Gregory laughed. Which caused others to snicker or even join his laughter, like Vincent, had, at seeing four Gryffindors become purple blobs. However, one quick warning look from Snape brought order back to the classroom. No one, who had any sense, had a desire to get on the wrong side of Professor Snape. No other professor in all of Hogwarts had such an acid tongue like Snape had.

 **o0o**

Gregory coughed as he was thrown out of his memory and back to his _now_. No longer in the _then_ of the Pensieve. He looked down at the old crooked crescent of a scar that had indeed developed where he had been bitten by that vile rat. It had been good to see his late friend Vincent again, as well as seeing the other faces of friends and acquaintances from all those years ago. Before He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named reappeared on the scene and changed everything for the worse. Carving wounds that were not physical maybe not entirely real, but leaving scars just the same.

Sighing he carefully put his Pensieve away and locked the cabinet that housed it securely away from anyone but him. He had learned the hard way that memories could be dangerous things if they fell into the wrong hands.

"Daddy? Where are you?"

Gregory shook his head as a smile came quickly to him like it always did when he heard his children call him _Daddy_. A term of endearment he had been forbidden to use. His father believing it was below a Goyle to call or be called anything sounding like daddy.

"Right here, Nova. What is the matter?" he asked his youngest daughter after exiting his private study.

"Mommy says supper is almost ready and Morticia got a letter in the post. With a fancy seal and crest on it, but she won't let me see it."

"Don't pout," he gently censured his daughter before adding, "let us see if we can get a peek of what it could be, hmm?"

Nova grinned and nodded her head ecstatically. "I'm thinking it has to be something fancy and important," she began as she led the way down stairs, "maybe it'll be an invitation to a ball?"

"A ball?"

"Yeah, with fancy dresses, and music, and food, and –"

Gregory listened as his daughter listed everything she believed constituted a ball. He didn't have the heart to stop her. Oh, yes he knew what that the letter was. Anyone that had ever been an alumni of Hogwarts would know. It was Morticia's acceptance letter into Hogwarts. Come September she would be heading out to Scotland and beginning her official wizarding education at Hogwarts. He secretly prayed that she wouldn't earn any scars along the way, but he knew that was what his wife would call wishful thinking. But, he went ahead and wished anyway.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Submission for:** The 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: Object _– Desk_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Gregory Goyle. Scar.

 **Word Count:** 792.


	16. (HG) A Nice Cup of Tea

**A Nice Cup of Tea**

 **oooOOOooo**

* * *

 **Summary:** In which Hermione has some tea while wishing the start of her second half of her first year at Hogwarts would start already.

 **Rating:** K+

* * *

 **oooOOOooo**

"I miss school. I'm so glad that the holidays are nearing to a close... Aren't you?" Rachel Bruce commented in an attempt to make small talk as she made herself and her temporary ward a cup of tea.

At seventeen Rachel had almost completely retired from babysitting, should be retired truthfully. She had agreed to watch little Hermione for the Grangers when they had been called away for a family emergency. Apparently, Grandma Granger wasn't doing so well at her new home.

"Yes," Hermione absently replied as she stirred her tea. "The projected topics for the second term look quite promising."

She cast a quick look to her school bag hanging on the kitchen wall. Hermione was practically itching to go over her magical texts and practice the basic wand movements and incantations. Albeit using a chopstick for the latter two. Since she couldn't legally practice magic outside Hogwarts till she was seventeen. Five whole years away.

"When I say I miss school, I mean I miss my friends, not the learning." Rachel corrected amazed that Hermione was still the little blue-stocking girl she had been since Rachel had first started babysitting for her; five years ago.

"Oh. Right. Of course." Hermione frowned into her cup. She should have known Rachel meant she missed her friends more than learning. She really should have. She too missed the small circle of friends she had made in the last couple at months. Harry and Ron especially, and their mission to stop Professor Snape from whatever wicked plans he had.

Rachel quickly mirrored Hermione's frown. She hadn't meant to sound dismissive of or belittle Hermione's smarts or the never ending desire for learning, but she had come to the overwhelming conclusion that she herself wasn't a genius long ago. Classes were just a necessary hurdle to overcome. Not a means to further her knowledge. Not for her.

"Hermione," Rachel paused unsure what exactly to say next, "there's nothing wrong with wanting to learn. Or, being the best at things. . . I just lack your aptitude for it. . . Blimey, you were the one that tutored me in Algebra."

"I remember," Hermione's laughter joined Rachel's as the two remembered the few weeks were their roles were reversed from ward and babysitter to tutor and pupil. "You were utterly lost and hopeless."

"True," Rachel quickly agreed, grinning, "I remember I would keep trying to multiply whenever I saw X."

"Or whenever it asked for you to find X in an illustration you would just circle the X and move on."

They spent several minutes like that. Alternating between themselves as they told one anecdote after another. After they had gone through all of them they could remember, and their mutual laughter had eventually died down Rachel refilled their cups.

"See," she began as she added her lemon and honey, "we operate differently. I miss school because of my friends I only see while there and you miss school because you miss the chance at expanding that big brains of yours. . . Miss I-Attend-A-Very-Exclusive-Private-Boarding-School-in-Scotland."

"Hmm," Hermione hummed thankful that she hadn't yielded to the urge to stick out her tongue at Rachel.

"I don't miss school just because of the promise of learning new things you know, although that is a big part of it," she quickly added when she saw Rachel's look of doubt before revealing that she also missed her friends.

"Oh? Tell me about your friends. You know about Lindsay and Faith. It's only fair."

"I . . . Well, there's Neville, he is rather sweet and nice but tends to be absent-minded at times, and not the best at –" she stopped herself short. She had been about to say potions. A slip up that would have been hard to cover since Rachel was a muggle and didn't know about the wizarding world. " – chemistry. Not that he doesn't try mind you. He does. He just usually adds too much, or not enough or replaces one thing with another when he shouldn't.

"Then there's Harry. He's rather nice too and – " she continued telling about her friends as they both drank their tea. Thankful that she had friends like Neville, Harry, Ron, Lavender, Hannah, Mandy, Tracey and Lily.

Rachel quietly refilled their tea as Hermione continued to fill her in on the friends she had managed to make during the short four months she had been attending her new school. For the first time hopeful that this new school of her ward's would help Hermione come out of her shell.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** _For the full disclaimer please refer to the first installment._

 **Author's Note:** After spending countless days debating whether I should just delete all of this and forget or go ahead and continue on, I have decided to continue posting what I have already written. I mean I have written it and why not. I will probably edit as I go on, but that's just by perfectionist side trying to sneak out again.

 **Submission for:** The 1991 Challenge at HPFFC.

 **Prompts:**

September Event Prompt: Dialogue _– "When I say I miss school, I mean I miss my friends, not the learning."_

 **1991 Challenge Prompt:** Hermione Granger. Seventeen.

 **Word Count:** 759.


	17. (DG) Sisters

**Sisters**

* * *

 **Summary:** Daphne gives some sisterly advice to Astoria the day after her sorting into Ravenclaw.

 **Rating: K**

* * *

Daphne took another sip of her orange juice as her sister Astoria entered the Great Hall. It hadn't been a great shock to Daphne that she was sorted into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin, she had taken after their eccentric mother's side of the family after all, but the missive that had just arrived for Daphne from their father reminding her that she was to keep an eye on her younger sister even if she was the first Greengrass of the last two centuries to not be sorted into Slytherin had surprised her. News did travel fast.

She returned a subdued wave back to her sister's more animated one much to the amusement of Millicent and Tracy. Daphne didn't wave, well, not here. Not at Hogwarts were appearance and decorum were paramount. She would have to let Astoria know that Slytherins did not wave.

"Your sister seems," Millicent paused as she saw Astoria return a curtsy to some ghost before twirling away to her seat, "special."

"She is." Daphne agreed. Her father's words still fresh in her mind. "Ravenclaw is a good fit for her."

"Yes," Tracy took a bite of her grapefruit. "a Greengrass in Ravenclaw is," she paused, adjusting her glasses, "special, indeed."

Daphne forced a polite smile. "Better Ravenclaw than Gryffindor."

Tracy and Millicent rapidly agreed as Daphne saw three other first years approach Astoria and began to argue. Why and about what she couldn't determine from her seat, so she excused herself from her Housemates and went over to her sister just as one boy shoved Astoria to the ground.

"Hey!" Daphne called at the same time as Professor McGonagall approached.

"What is the meaning of this?" the Deputy Headmistress demanded as Daphne helped Astoria back to her feet.

"You all right, Astoria?" Daphne asked, quickly scanning her sister for any blood.

"Of course I'm all right. They just pushed me because I disagreed with them."

Daphne was about to inquire what the disagreement was about when a boy who had done the pushing finally answered McGonagall.

"She started it," he began, pointing at Astoria. "she says that because Sally is a Muggleborn she isn't a real witch and-"

"She isn't."

The boy glared at Astoria who just smiled back. Daphne inwardly sighed and sent a silent warning to her sister to stay quiet about their strong family views about blood purity. That this was not the place or time for defending or discussing it.

"See?" a girl with puffy brown eyes pointed at Astoria.

"and that she shouldn't be here. Shouldn't be at Hogwarts." the boy finished sending a pleading look at McGonagall to reprimand their Housemate for her mean words.

Astoria was about to argue her side more when Daphne stopped her with a gentle squeeze of her hand on Astoria's arm, a signal that they used whenever the other needed to be quiet. It had saved them many times from their father's volatile temper.

"Miss Greengrass," McGonagall began turning to Astoria. A stern and disapproving look that reminded Astoria too much of her father's warning look before losing his temper. She was in trouble. "is this true?"

"Yes ma'am, it is."

"Every witch and wizard, regardless of their parentage, are equally suited to study here. Now Miss Greengrass apologize to Miss Denver for your hurtful words."

Astoria frowned. Apologize for just stating the truth? She shouldn't have to.

"Apologize Astoria," Daphne quietly whispered to her sister, squeezing her sister's arm again.

"I'm sorry."

"Now, Mister Roberts I believe you owe an apology for pushing Miss Greengrass down."

"What? But she-"

"Mister Roberts," McGonagall interrupted, "it is also against the rules for hexing, dueling, hitting, or pushing someone down."

Astoria grinned as Roberts glared at her and muttered a soft, "I'm sorry."

"Ten points from Ravenclaw for disrupting everyone's breakfast and fighting."

The three students and McGonagall left as Daphne pulled her sister to the side away from any prying ears.

"You cannot do this Astoria."

"Do what?"

"Broadcast our views on blood purity like this."

"Why not? It's the truth, right? That magical blood is purer than muddy blood."

"Of course," Daphne sighed. "but it isn't the public accepted view right now. You just need to keep quiet."

Astoria shook her head but finally agreed. "Okay, I'll keep quiet. I wish I had been sorted into Slytherin with you, Daph."

"Me too. But you aren't very Slytherin, you know. You're too... different." she trailed off hoping she hadn't hurt her sister's feelings.

Astoria was quiet for a long moment before she tilted her chin up and reminded Daphne of their mother's words concerning Astoria, "My mum says I'm special on the inside."

"And there's your problem. Your specialness shines through too much."

After another beat of silence between the two sisters, Daphne tried again.

"She's my mum too and she also plays ' _nose thief_ ' with us when we were like two and three. You are a Greengrass and now a Hogwarts Student. You can't do things that make you a target. Not now."

"Okay," Astoria finally agreed, hating herself for agreeing to stay quiet, behaved, and suppressed. Hogwarts wasn't what she thought it would be but still she wanted to stay. The magic radiating from the very walls was too enchanting and encouraging.

The next several years would be something else, both sisters thought as they parted ways back to their respected tables.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** The Wizarding World of Harry Potter does not belong to LittleTee, (who shall henceforth be referred to as "The Author.") While the plot of this fanfiction, (henceforth to be referred to as the "Story,") is of The Author's creation, neither the characters nor the locations therein belong to The Author, as they belong to JK Rowling, with the exception of any characters or locations within this Story which have no representation in cannon-these original characters and locations are the property of The Author. This is a work of fiction produced for the single purpose of entertaining fans of Harry Potter, and no Copyright infringement is intended.

 **Submission for:** _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Forum's_ September Event: Back To School and _Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenge Forum's_ The 1991 Challenge.

 **Back to School:**  
 _Team - The Dazzling Dragon-Keepers_

 _ **Rules:** There will be 60 prompts (two for each day of the month), and you will use these prompts as the theme in your drabble (or longer). You can submit one story a day, or several a day, or none a day - it's up to you, so long as all 60 prompts have been used by the end of September. It is two prompts per story, no more, no less. It doesn't matter how you mix and match them!_

 ** _Prompts:_** _51\. (dialogue) "My mum says I'm special on the inside." and_ _58\. (location) The Great Hall_

 _ **Word Count:**_ 100 words min.

 **The 1991 Challenge:**

 _ **Rules:** You must write about each of the 40 people Sorted in 1991. Then you can match each one up with one of the extra 40 prompts._ You may not use the same prompt for two people. _The fics can be anywhere from 100 to 100,000,000,000 words long, and they can be in a collection or not, whichever you like. The fics/chapters do not have to be about the character in the year of 1991. It can be about them at any point in their life. (If you'd like, you may do one solely focused on a certain character, but from a different character's POV.) The prompts can be either a general idea of the fic, or a word used somewhere in it._

 _ **Prompts:**_ _(Character) Daphne Greengrass and_ _(Word) Nose._

* * *

 **Story's Word Count:** 937

 **Author's Note:** Since the jumpdrive that stored the remainder of the stories I wrote for the 1991 challenge last year crashed I have put this on a silent backburner. (My creative muse does not appreciate rewriting anything and it is just a general struggle to revisit anything.) However, some of the prompts from this year's HSWW Back to School event sparked some story ideas. Ones that worked with the 1991 challenge.


	18. (NL) A Prince's Diary

**A Prince's Diary**

 **Summary:** During a detention, Neville stumbles across an old lost diary of one Eileen Prince.

* * *

Neville Longbottom sighed. He really wished he hadn't messed up again and knocked over his chair and table complete with cauldron and ingredients bathing five students earlier that day. Detention was bad enough but one with Professor Snape... the next two hours will be an eternity of misery.

As he moved to knock the door opened revealing one intimating Potions Professor.

"Just on time, Longbottom."

Neville nodded as he entered the classroom.

"Your detention will be to clean every chair, table, and cauldron without the use of magic."

Neville's mouth dropped. There were dozens of chairs and tables not to even begin with the several different cauldrons that were housed within the dark and dank room. "But sir, that will take hours to do!"

"Better get to work then."

Neville sighed but didn't protest more. He didn't need to anger the professor or jeopardize anymore House points. He took the pail and hand towels to one of the sinks and filled it with soap and water.

"And, Longbottom."

"Yes, sir?"

"Your detention will not be over till everything is cleaned."

Just what he didn't need. He had an Astronomy exam tomorrow night and he really didn't need to spend all of Sunday night scrubbing and rubbing a classroom clean. Then again this was Snape. He should have known it wouldn't be just writing lines or marking papers.

Hours later Neville was finishing up the chairs after getting every cauldron and table spotless when he felt something odd under the fourth chair from the last. Bending down he looked and gasped. A book was affixed to it. Toying with whether he should notify his professor or not he pulled the book free, catching it just before it hit the floor.

"Professor?" Neville asked turning to find that the Professor had stepped out of the room for a moment. He put the book into the big side pocket of his robes planning to tell Professor Snape after he came back.

However, he never got the chance as he forgot about the book as he focused on finishing his assigned chore. Until he got back to his dorm room and discovered the book in his pocket.

He would have told someone; Harry, Ron, Dean or even Seamus; but all the other boys were fast asleep. Getting into his bed he opened the book and found it was an old diary from some girl named Eileen Prince. Taking a loose sheet of parchment and his pencil, a gift from Hermione to help with his revisions, he wrote a note to his Head Professor explaining how and where he had found the diary. It was the right thing to do.

Putting the diary and note on his nightstand, he extinguished his candle and settled into sleep missing the faint light green glow coming from the closed pages of the diary he had found.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** The Wizarding World of Harry Potter does not belong to LittleTee, (who shall henceforth be referred to as "The Author.") While the plot of this fanfiction, (henceforth to be referred to as the "Story,") is of The Author's creation, neither the characters nor the locations therein belong to The Author, as they belong to JK Rowling, with the exception of any characters or locations within this Story which have no representation in cannon-these original characters and locations are the property of The Author. This is a work of fiction produced for the single purpose of entertaining fans of Harry Potter, and no Copyright infringement is intended.

 **Submission for:** _Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Forum's_ September Event: Back To School and _Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum's_ 1991 Challenge.

 **Back to School:**  
 _Team - The Dazzling Dragon-Keepers_

 _ **Rules:** There will be 60 prompts (two for each day of the month), and you will use these prompts as the theme in your drabble (or longer). You can submit one story a day, or several a day, or none a day - it's up to you, so long as all 60 prompts have been used by the end of September. It is two prompts per story, no more, no less. It doesn't matter how you mix and match them!_

 ** _Prompts:_** _32 (object) Diary and_ _19 (action) Being given a detention_

 **1991 Challenges:**

 _ **Prompts:**_ _(Character) Neville Longbottom and_ _(Word) Pencil_

* * *

 **Story's Word Count:** 501

 _ **As always, feedback is cherished and appreciated.**_


	19. (PadmaP) We Didn't Start The Fire

**We Didn't Start The Fire**

 **Summary:** A random and somewhat fluffy Padma/Draco one-shot.

* * *

 _Saturday, September 4th, 1999_

 _An old empty classroom_

Padma took another drink form the bottle of firewhisky that was currently being passed around the small group of returning seventh year girls.

She and her sister, Parvati, had to defend their decision to return to Hogwarts and sit through an accelerated NEWTs course load with their parents. Something they felt they had to do. To finish their schooling and be NEWT-level witches.

Although, the last two days had been harder than expected.

Even though the castle had been almost completely repaired there were still areas roped off and the ones that were open weren't the same without the old paintings, portraits, statues, and the odd suit of armor. Finding one's way to classes was difficult and Padma had gotten lost several times.

Then there was the more depressing reminder that some had not survived the war nor final battle. Sure, there were several of their year that had opted out on the accelerated NEWTs and started whatever vocational, technical, or independent career they wanted. (Harry Potter had done just that and Padma couldn't blame him.) But, then there were the new ghosts. Thankfully, there appeared to be no Death Easter ghosts about but it was still outputting when one ran through a former classmate on their way to class.

"Hand the bottle over, Padma. You're not the only one here," Padma's Housemate, Mandy Brocklehurst, commented taking the half full bottle and a long drink from it.

Padma shrugged off Mandy'a behavior. They all knew about Mandy losing her only boyfriend during the battle and they all tried to be understanding.

"This is boring," Pansy Parkinson yawned.

"We could play a game," Parvati offered.

"We could play truth or date!" Lisa Turpin and Morag MacDougal exclaimed together.

"Truth or date? Really, how old are you two? Thirteen?" Pansy sorted accepting the bottle and taking a small sip of the whiskey.

"Oh, shut up, Parkinson. I don't see you providing any good suggestions," Lavender Brown reprimanded Pansy. After the battle and the "attack" her usual bright mood and girlish demeanor had changed into a more pessimistic and no nonsense one. Padma liked this Lavender over the other one. Even if the rumors that Lavender was a werewolf were true.

Pansy bristled but Daphne Greengrass and Millicent Bulstrode laid a calming hand on their Housemate's arm, successfully stopping her retort.

"How about a drinking game then?" Hannah Abbott offered, trying to less the sudden tension in the room.

"I know," Sue Li spoke up, "let's play Never Have I Ever."

Everyone agreed and Sue and Lavender quickly explained the rules while Padma and Mandy transfigured some old textbooks into shot glasses. Both girls having played the game before years ago at the Three Broomsticks and knew that shot glasses would be needed.

Thankfully, they had two unopened bottles of firewhisky since Padma suspected it would be a long and wild game.

Something they all needed to christen the school year.

.

 _One hour and bottle later._

 _._

"Never have I ever," Parvati ran a finger along the rim of her glass. "lost my virginity."

Padma grinned and didn't touch her glass unlike most of the girls that groaned and emptied theirs.

Parvati gasped when she saw Lavender empty her drink too.

"When? You never told me you slept with anyone," Parvati asked while lightly slapping her friend's arm.

"Sixth year," Lavender smiled lightly.

"Ron Weasley?"

"Yes, it was Ron."

So that's why she went nutty for the redhead, Padma silently concluded.

"Poor girl, must have been beyond painful," Pansy stressed the last word as she summoned the bottle to refill her glass.

Lavender bristled. "It was wonderful. Ron was very considerate," she defended her ex-boyfriend, "and its always painful the first time."

A couple of girls nodded their agreement as their refilled their glasses for the next question.

Pansy snorted. "Weasley must have told you that line. My first time, with my boyfriend Draco Malfoy," Daphne frowned and mumbled something that sounded like ex-boyfriend that either Pansy didn't hear or choose to ignore. "was brilliant and liberating," she smirked, "and pain free."

"Pansy, you forget that Malfoy is the unofficial sex-prince of Slytherin. He probably just dosed you with some anti-pain potion-"

"He did not, Tracy." Pansy interrupted and corrected her Housemate.

A small silence fell around the group.

"Um, how would one best go about losing their virginity?" Hannah asked, sheepishly. "I have a friend who would like to know."

Padma shared a look with her sister. Even though their parents were rather liberal compared to their own parents they had still been clear on when and how their daughters would lose their innocence: only on their wedding night.

So they quietly excused themselves and left the classroom.

"Want to go to the library and do our potions homework?" Padma asked as they slowly walked together towards the center of the main castle.

"Not really, no. Want to walk with me around the grounds?"

Padma shook her head. "This is way we're in different Houses. Enjoy your walk."

Parvati smiled. "I will. Enjoy your books."

An hour later, Padma's homework was interrupted when the Head Boy, Draco Malfoy, joined her.

They had never been friends but neither had they been enemies and his sudden uninvited appearance was a surprise.

"Can I help you?"

Instead of the smirk she expected a small smile graced his lips. "Hopefully, we'll be helping each other."

One of Padma's eyebrows rose as she waited for him to continue.

"We have almost the exact class roaster and I don't really have anyone to study with right now..." he trailed off as Padma offered a weak smile of understanding.

Even though the unofficial prince of Slytherin had come back to finish his courses most of his friends, Goyle and Crabbe especially since they hadn't survived the war, had not.

"All right. I was just finishing potions if you want to join me."

He nodded and took out his advanced potions book.

The following hours went by comfortably as the two teens compared notes and studied.

"Same time next week?" Padma asked Draco as they left the library together heading to the Great Hall for the evening feast.

"Sounds agreeable."

.

The following weeks the Ravenclaw and Slytherin met and studied at the library. Both slowly accepting the other as a friend.

However, the weekend before Halloween Draco grew quiet, not even voicing his opinion on the advanced potion they would be brewing Monday. Something that was most definitely odd for Draco Malfoy, boy potion master extraordinaire, but Padma didn't press him about it. They were barely friends and she didn't want to jeopardize their study sessions, one of the few things she could look forward to during the week.

"Well, time to go for supper," Padma observed as she began packing up her books, notes and her partially written essay for potions.

Draco blinked and began closing his book. The time had just flown by. Now he would have to ask her as they walked to the Great Hall. He hoped she would say yes.

"Padma," he began, "the Halloween Ball is next week and ..."

What was wrong with him? He had asked several girls out and to dances before. But you didn't like them as much as Padma, a small annoying voice declared somewhere in his subconscious before he squashed it.

Reminding himself he was a Malfoy and every girls choice of a catch, he tried again: "Would you do me the honor of being my date at the Halloween Ball?"

Padma stopped and looked at Draco, surprised at his offer but also to her surprise, thrilled and excited that he had asked her. She would be evaluating that later tonight.

"Why thank you, Draco. I'll love to."

* * *

 _Saturday, June 14th, 2003_

"I believe that this is our song," Draco whispered softy into his bride's ear.

Padma smiled as she recognized the opening bars to Billy Joel's We Didn't Start the Fire and accepted her lover's outstretched hand.

Their slow ascension from friends to lovers had been a pleasant one. Although, at times one filled with tension and healing for both Padma and Draco.

As the singer sang the first line they swayed and twirled onto the empty dance floor. Both only having eyes for the other as they embarked on this new chapter of their lives together and happily in love.

 _Fini_

* * *

 **Disclaimer:** The Wizarding World of Harry Potter does not belong to LittleTee, (who shall henceforth be referred to as "The Author.") While the plot of this fanfiction, (henceforth to be referred to as the "Story,") is of The Author's creation, neither the characters nor the locations therein belong to The Author, as they belong to JK Rowling, with the exception of any characters or locations within this Story which have no representation in cannon-these original characters and locations are the property of The Author. This is a work of fiction produced for the single purpose of entertaining fans of Harry Potter, and no Copyright infringement is intended.

 **Submission for:** Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum's 1991 Challenge and the Crazy Random Pairing Challenge.

 _Written for:_ Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry Forum's September Event: Back To School.

 **1991** **Challenge:**

 _ **Prompts:**_ (Character) Padma Patil and (Word) Books

 **The** **Crazy** **Random** **Pairing** **Challenge:**

 _ **Prompts:**_ (Pairing) Padma/Draco, (Object) Books, (Word) Study, and (Action) Danc

 _Back to School:_

Team - The Dazzling Dragon-Keepers

Prompts: 55 (location) Empty Classroom and 21 (action) Discussing with friends about how to lose their virginity.

* * *

 **Story's Word Count:** 1,399

 **Author's Notes:** Just something I wrote the other day but didn't get around to edit it till today.


End file.
